The whole thing is so ironic, I can’t help but laugh about it now. The professed key to me gaining back control of my life sent me down a vicious spiral, which if not reversed, could have ended it. To unravel that riddle for you: in early December I was put on new anti-convulsant medication for my epilepsy, the high dosage of which sent me into a deep depression and left me suicidal. I feel rather ridiculous and over-dramatic even typing that – my nickname is Perky for goodness sake…

I am not here to relay to you my every thought and feeling during this time – it is the weekend after all – but this dramatic shift in my behaviour and mentality taught me some valuable lessons. I, like so many of us, have had my fair share of second hand experience with depression and suicide. I have seen loved ones suffer and/or lose their battle. I have endured my own periods of sadness as a form of inevitable collateral damage. But I, like so many relatives and friends, am not a depressive. At least, not usually. If there has been any silver lining to my most recent debacle, it’s that I now get it. I thought I did before, but I didn’t.

Firstly, it is only with hindsight that I can write this. At the time I was too tired to take to the keyboard; that’s presuming I had anything to say. I was also far too immersed in a thick fog of nothingness to have anything to say. So consumed by my paranoid delusions and sense of nothing that I could’t comprehend for a long while that there was anything worthy of discussion. Nothing was wrong, other than with me, of course. Everything was wrong with me.

Many of you who know me will also probably be reading this thinking “really? I never noticed anything was up!” (or maybe you did, but I’m guessing you didn’t jump to this extreme). But it was. I also learnt this year then that it’s really quite easy to pretend nothing’s wrong. To show up just enough to make people think that you’re just “really busy at the moment”, when really you’re avoiding 8/10 plans only to find yourself in bed for the fourth day in a row, feeling lonely. As I’ve seen with people close to me who are on that downward spiral, this method works until the day it doesn’t. People then tend to wonder, I used to wonder, where the burn-out came from. What changed? Why, suddenly, can’t they get their sh*t together and stick to a plan? Selfish, lazy, self-indulgent. That’s what comes to mind all too easily. Turns out, they’d had a whole load of sh*t to get together every time they got out of bed for quite a bit longer than any of us realised. And if we’re honest, we didn’t really want to be made aware of the situation while they could still pretend everything was OK.

Upon reflection therefore, the most important insight I gained was rather oxymoronic: that the behaviour displayed during a time of mental illness is 100% out of the sufferer’s control (no, they can’t just ‘snap out of it’), but also: it’s not permanent, and in some cases it’s even avoidable. Things can be done to prevent affliction, and help those who do suffer conquer their battle. The problem is, the grand narrative still dictates that it is the sufferer’s fault, and little seems to be being done to help manage this quite probably manageable problem (easier said than done, I’m aware).

I’m no doctor but I’m also not oblivious to the fact that mental illness, just like obesity for example, is clearly on the rise. And just like obesity, mental-health problems may be (partly at least) a symptom of modern life. I am not talking about a complacency society in our times of relatively high standards of living. I am talking about: the added pressures that come with social media, and the 24/7 connection provided by technology; our obsession with material goods as an indicator of success; the chemicals that we pump into our bodies with the food we eat, and/or indeed the medication we take. The list goes on.

If you look at the status-quo, however, it appears we have no clue what we’re doing. While we’re definitely talking about our ‘feelings’ more, and that cannot be underestimated, we’re certainly not making any discernible effort to modernise the infrastructure of our society to match its changes. For instance, food stores (supermarkets, take-aways, restaurants) have pledged no commitment to make the customer aware of the hormones and chemicals that many of their products contain; nor are they under any pressure to do so. Furthermore, advertising companies know exactly how to make us want more, and are relentless in their campaign to move the goal-posts of success and fulfilment. And Instead of preserving the carefree innocence of childhood – an increasingly precious phase of life – primary schools spend their time preparing for exams, starting with KS1 tests, which children sit aged 7. To put that into perspective, in Germany children have only just started school at 7. These are examples of the many facets of modern life that are largely out of the individual’s control, yet have a colossal impact on our well-being. Logically then, altering sectors such as: food production, advertising, pharmaceuticals and education to act consciously, in a way that is supportive of our mental well-being, is a necessary tool of prevention. Sadly it appears that money-making and league tables still matter more.

Of course not all mental illness is preventable, and for those who suffer it is rarely due to their lifestyle choices. However, astonishingly, while mental health problems account for around 23% of disease in the UK, it only takes up 11% of the NHS budget.* If we all agree that the situation is much like being hit by a car or having cancer, which the NHS deals with so effectively and admirably, surely the treatment of those who fall mentally ill should be covered proportionately by the budget.

Am I wrong? If not, then where is the evidence of any such alterations? So much for the commitment by politicians to concentrate on solving Britain’s mental health crisis, the policy which shaped many of the campaigns in the 2015 general election.

My experience seems so alien now, so distant and long ago that I am able to discuss it openly, even joke about it. But I’m excruciatingly aware that for many others those thoughts and feelings are a daily battle – and that’s no laughing matter. While I don’t begin to suggest that everyone should chemically induce their own mental instability, I do make a plea for a shift in attitude. A more active approach. One that is enlightened to the genuine suffering of those with a mental illness and one that provokes change. Just like obesity and other pervading social problems, such change must be top-down if it’s to prove effective. Hence as well as educating and looking after ourselves, we must put adequate pressure on the government and big companies to invoke the necessary changes to their methods of employment.

This is a problem far bigger and more systemic than someone’s inability to ‘pull themselves together’, and it sadly cannot be solved simply by ‘talking about it’. I’ll put my hands up and say that, until this year, I myself didn’t fully understand that.

…

*Figures as of 2015; sourced: https://www.kingsfund.org.uk/projects/verdict/has-government-put-mental-health-equal-footing-physical-health

Last night I went to my first carol concert of the year. And I can tell you now, I left feeling the most genuinely joyful that I have in 2016 so far.

It’s safe to say that when my fellow caroller and I arrived at Saint Stevens we were both pretty, ok thoroughly, depressed. Deadlines, cold to the bone from student-flat heating (or lack of…), tired, bored of the semester, missing family, missing home, missing dogs, missing summer, missing warmth, missing freedom. The list that fed our wallowing self-pity was never ending. Yet when we left the church, we couldn’t stop laughing, we couldn’t care less about our imminent deadlines, and we no longer needed central heating to keep ourselves warm.

On my walk home, such a turn-around of emotion got me thinking: why are we so much more stressed this year than last? We aren’t in an honours’ year, and we’re no longer living in the prison of student halls. Then I remembered: 2016 has been a true car-crash. As if I could forget… Our petty stresses were a reflection of the more general events of attrition that has led to the global population’s general sense-of-humour failure.

Every day we are reminded of the utter insanity that this year has consisted of. Let’s remind ourselves of a few examples, just for fun:

Today BBC breaking informed me that Thomas Mair is indeed guilty of -what I proudly previously thought of as being absurdly un-British- the killing Jo Cox MP. This cruel act occurred just a week before the unprecedentedly revolutionary *cough* outrageous *cough* Brexit vote. On top of these, for the whole year we’ve had running commentary of a head-to-head, evil-meets-evil, lose-lose situation, presidential election campaign. Such narcissistic displays of power play has sapped our limited positivity despite it not even being our own elections. We are now totally, and utterly, exhausted as a body-politic.

Syria meanwhile has been shaking things up more than ever, both through their ongoing, terrible suffering on the front lines, and through the refugee crisis. Not only are we exhausted but we are now knotted in an attempted mixture of genuine empathetic grief and charity.

Then we have the multitude of European terror attacks. France has been the focus of several attacks: Paris and Nice to name the biggest. This brings all the terror so much closer to home; we are now not only exhausted and trying desperately to be empathetic, but (often conflictingly so) we are also truly fearful of our own safety.

There have been fatal earthquakes in places such as Italy, and another massive hurricane in Haiti. And on top of all these political and natural disasters we have lost so many of our national treasures, our idols. We’ve genuinely grieved the loss of many of those figures who usually we rely on to comfort and entertain us when everything goes a bit tits-up, gets a bit serious and stressful (see above 3 paragraphs…). No more inspiration from Prince, no more dry wit from Wogan, the last of the Ronnies gone. We can’t even get angry at Alan Rickman for almost cheating on Emma Thompson anymore, without forgiving him and begging him to come back to us to say “Potter” one more time.

And as it’s the era of a social media orientated, globalised world our reactions are forever scrutinised. We care too much, but if we don’t express our care whole heartedly in public we are ignorant to our surroundings. We are cruel if we don’t “pray for Paris”, but when we do we are accused to not caring about civilians in Libya or Israel or Palestine. We are so tense and stressed and “concerned” that every move we make at this point seems to make everything worse.

Normally I am a true advocate for not starting the Christmas fun until December 1st. It just makes sense right? Starting in October like that one crazy aunt, or in August like the money-grabbing retailers, is simply madness that must be protested against. Why? In case we get *bored* of Christmas before actual Christmas, or as positive action against consumerism. But this year, I say screw convention, I have had enough of protesting. There is no way that singing jingle bells whilst dancing around a Christmas market in my ridiculous chunky knit is going to get boring this year.

We’ve been through enough. My pre-carol woes were a microcosm for social anxieties concerning the global economy, global diplomacy and quite frankly, at this rate, the fate of the human race. Yet forgetting all of my problems, the petty and the slightly more serious, did more good for me than being “concerned”, or “involved” or “trying to make a difference”. I may have spent most of today in bed, watching iPlayer and eating, but I’m happy and I’m calm and I’m ready to face my to-do list whilst retaining some sanity. Turning on radio 4 this morning I laughed at the sound of Trump’s voice, rather than shiver with disgust and fear. Wouldn’t 2016 look so much better if we could laugh at the absurdity of it all and celebrate the fact that it’s going to belong to the history books oh so soon? Wouldn’t we all make better, more rational decisions if May and Corbyn wore santa outfits, and their cabinets dressed as elves for a while? Ok, maybe that’s one fantasy to many, but the idea is still valid, no?

Christmas is about uniting. It’s about celebrating. We may no longer all give it the religious focus that it once had. And yes, most of us have a pretty grim 25th with dry turkey and wet relatives. But the festive season is there to lift the spirits. It’s the one time of the year where we can really, truly, take some time to sit back and appreciate the good, have a belly giggle, and have fun without worrying about having summer bods or tickets to the best festivals. All we need is family and some Christmas lights. How refreshingly simple.

So screw the December 1st rule. We’ve tried caring and being serious, it’s quite frankly not working. This year we need a double dose of “festive”, two layers of Christmas jumpers and two rounds of We Wish You A Merry Christmas. Now excuse me while I go to my local German Market and freeze my bum off on a merry-go-round, with some mulled wine in-tow.

Please kindly stop isolating demographics and blaming results of democratic elections on certain groups of people. I get it. I too am here to defend the liberal assets of Western society and to celebrate the diversity that it ensues. And yes some people are attacking our increasingly lovely liberal world. And yes a lot of these people are older, stuck in their ol’ racist ways that are kind of ok at Sunday lunch, but not ok on the bus or when it comes to the ballot box. But since when does that give any of us the right to dismiss their opinion? Doesn’t that entirely contradict the liberal mind-set we spend our lives lording over everyone else? And how are we doing anything for our democracy if we think results shouldn’t count unless we agree? I think you can probably answer those questions yourself…

Let’s start with the elderly. Yes, I was indeed one of the thouands of millenials who took to my facebook wall, to the safety of my opinion echo-chamber, to declare my outcry. If only 18-24 years olds’ votes were counted, it would have been a 74% vote for Remain! How dare the older generation ruin our future! They won’t even live to see the consequences!

Woops…This is why I refrained from further voicing of my opinions at the time.

First of all, 56% of the 45-54y/o category voted to leave actually. Akward. It would be barmy to suggest that a 45 year old would be unlikely to live through the consequences. These days someone of 45 years old has barely left their parent’s home…but that’s a whole other article. The people who had the most idea (who let’s face it had really very little idea)- the fact machines, or economists as some people call them – told us that it was in the short-mid term that we would experience most economic problems. Well then, I’d say that a 45 year old, hey even a 54 year old, was voting for their future then. In economic terms they have as great a vested interest in our country not going tits-up as we do. After all they have their dreaded pensions to save for. At this rate they won’t get one until they’re 80, so I can imagine they want our economy to be in a state that allows for them to receive one before they die. Moreover if we aren’t earning enough to provide for a family, how will we help our ironically pensionless OAPs? You get the gist. It was pure, selfish naivety to suggest that it was only our poor young souls who would be affected for better or for worse by the outcome of the referendum.

Other virile, bitter remarks were spat at our elders saying that they harked back to a ‘rose-tinted’ past; one which was no longer symbolised Britain as we know it today. I agree. But. Democracy. Just because we don’t all long for a Britain with Churchill (the PM, not the dog, kids) sings us rhetoric and butters us up with notions of imperial power and independence. Our different perspective doesn’t mean that their visions are less firm-footed or valid than ours. More importantly it doesn’t make ours more. For example: I wanted to stay so that I didn’t need a visa to see my boyfriend, who lives in the Netherlands. I’m sure I was not the only young person with personal reason that affected my vote at the cost of someone else’s preference. And just like I’m sure ol’ grandpa Joe didn’t just vote based on drunk Churchill circa 1940, I didn’t just vote based on my ability to hop over for a weekend in Amsterdam. Just as Brexiteers were fed lies about NHS funding and the like, I’m sure if Remain had won we wouldn’t have reaped many of the benefits promised, or.lol..World War 3 would still probably on the cards…

Basically, the EU referendum shouldn’t have happened in my opinion. As I’ve made perfectly clear above, none of us really had a clue what was going on, what was best. We still don’t apparently. I’m not sure that the courts, who ruled against the Government last week really have it sussed either… But the American election is a pretty crucial element of the US’s democracy. Preferably not to be missed, one could say. Similar problems have popped up with the American Presidential election this week, and henceforth my silence ends.

Although official stats aren’t out yet, it seems that, like with Brexit, young people wanted Hilary to win. Whilst I, like many others, had a little cry to myself on Wednesday morning, and thanked my lucky stars that my mum’s house in London has a basement, I do not think that Trump voters belonged to one demographic, who’s voice should have been silenced. In a way it’s kind of (not really, but urgh! I suppose it must be) magical to think that despite all attempts to degrade, shame and shut-down those who were rooting for him, their voice was still heard. Yet still on my facebook wall, after everyone went out to vote and play along with the system, I see cries of the election being unfair. Such voices included articles calling for the elderly to not be allowed to vote as young people were supposedly robbed of their futures. All I can think is how hypocritical, less that 24 hours after proudly posted you “I voted” sticker on instagram, you’re now slamming the system and other proud voters because you didn’t get your way? Almost as childish as Trump, really.

Disclaimer alert: I understand the horrific nature of the ‘Whitelash’ associated with the outcome of this US presidential election. I think that some of the opinions and acts that the result seems to have supported and sparked are disgusting. And I think it is truly sad that many minorities sad suffer greatly. As a white Brit I am aware that I am complacently writing about sulking and media coverage that, in the grand scheme of things, don’t matter all that much. I also understand the ideological stand-point behind the isolating the young’s vote in the media. We are in, general. more liberal; we have grown up in a much more diverse society than most in older generations. However in America, plenty of Trump’s racist, misogynistic, intolerant supporters were young. During the Brexit referendum (regardless of whether it should have happened) it was more than an issue of age which split public opinion.

Ultimately then it comes down to an issue of democracy. We can campaign and we can express express express our own opinions, and we can argue with the other side(s) until the cows come home. But it is in this way that we must change results, rather than refusing to accept the end result and asserting superiority of opinion. As liberals, we have sort of shot ourselves in the foot by being liberals, really. To be liberal, to believe in democracy (and I believe the two do go hand in hand), you’ve got to accept other sides’ opinions. In fact you’ve got to cherish them, absorb them, let them be expressed too. You can think something different, by all means, but you can’t silence them. You can think the opposition is full of abhorrence: passionately believe that the other person could not be more wrong, more vile, or more hateful. But it’s the isolationist, protectionist, conservative has chosen the easy side because they’re the ones who can live in ignorance. They can shut off any opposition, not us liberals.

So, fellow freedom loving, self-expressing millennials and media junkies. Stop excluding other demographics. Stop thinking that your problems, your priorities and your fears for the future are superior, and others are superfluous. Stop sulking. stop being hypocritical. Instead, why don’t we concentrate on moaning about our pathetic turnout. Maybe if we spread our positivepolitical expression more we will see progress that pleases us. We need to encourage the non voters to take an interest, and this cannot be done by sounding vulgar, deafening noises. Campaign is as important as elections, and the nature of a campaign is crucial. If we want less extremism, why don’t we appeal to greater human sensitivities such as compassion, instead of feeding off the poison of political point scoring. Maybe then we’d make ours the hegemonic voice of the people. Or maybe we wouldn’t. But it’s not just the young, liberal person’s world. And that’s what sucks about democracy…

If you think Banksy’s work is no more than an act of vandalism you are wrong. It may be that graffiti is illegal, but one thing’s for sure: his work goes far further than him pissing on a street wall to mark his territory. And his newest piece is no exception.

Over the weekend Banksy’s latest thought provoking message appeared on a street corner in Knightsbridge. The piece – which depicts Cosette from Les Miserables, emerging from a fog of gas with her eyes streaming – is a clear response to the French Police’s night raid on refugees in Calais. Next to the mural is a barcode that allows passers by to watch the police attack for themselves on their smart phones.

No one can deny that it is clever or powerful. Fundamentally it is not so much the message that Banksy is presenting here that is of importance, but the act itself: bringing the conversation, which is so needed, to the realm of popular-culture.

Purely through his conscious anonymity and the cult following that entails, he wields a power in conversation unmatched by politicians or identified activists. Said activists are too in-your-face and politicians would rather not have the conversation, unless it will win them votes. The vast majority of people avoid listening to either at all costs.

His message, though, is also incredibly important. Banksy has once again provided a voice for the vulnerable: those who cannot legally or visibly be heard. Without a whisper, or pledging allegiance, Banksy has managed to become an advocate and speak for a group of people in dire need of attention. People whose own attempts are being drowned out in the media by football scores, Corbyn drama and the Great British Weather.

When officials aren’t averting our gaze they soothe our angst by patting the heads of those helping from afar, as if that’s sufficient action. They’re perfectly happy to congratulate Germany on their warm welcome to those who made it to Europe. Well up for considering those Greek islanders, who helped so many, for a Nobel Peace Prize. But actively help them themselves? Unlikely. Apparently the government has got 99 problems and helping refugees ain’t one.

Banksy’s depiction of un-humanitarian police action, so vulgar that it would hurt the children of a Revolution, may not go down so well with those who think ignorance is bliss. But I don’t think there are many Brits who wish to remain in the dark. That’s why the voices of popular artists like Banksy are so necessary: we need to be aware of all, not just official opinions.

That his voice comes in the form of vandalism is part of his point; his protest is against the State, testing the rules of our society that he believes are unjust. It’s illegality and accessibility adds a dimension of authenticity that can only be achieved in public spaces.

In true ironic style the council have now, (as they often do with a piece of vandalism as valuable as a Banksy) covered the mural, not in the name of the law, but to save it so that it can be sold for huge amounts of money. I doubt that any of the money raised will go towards helping the real-life tear-stained Cosette’s wipe their eyes dry.

No matter: it looks like Banksy’s job here is done. Enough people saw it for it to go viral, make the news and lead many news websites to include the all important video that the barcode links to.

Mattel has announced a new range of ‘realistic’ Barbies. Customers will now be able to choose from three body types, seven skin tones, and twenty-four hair shades. While the collection may have limited direct social implications, and is undoubtedly a ploy to regain lost traction in the toy market, the latest additions do sport the badge of realism and diversity. This has to be seen as a step in the right direction.

As an icon and the most realistic doll out there, the plastic figure has a heavy responsibility, serving as a role model to millions of young children across the globe. So far she has failed in her duties. Adults criticise and blame her for embedding all sorts of insecurities, while their children play innocently. All the while they are unknowingly yet another generation to be conditioned to think that being anything other than a white, blonde, blue-eyed, tall ‘woman’ with a pinched waist, thigh gap and perfect boobs, is no good.

It’s in Barbie’s very nature to evolve: she was after all modeled on a German hooker doll, ‘Lilli’. The creator, Ruth Handler has been known to say that “every little girl needed a doll through which to project herself into her dream of her future”. Funnily enough, mothers haven’t tended to be so keen on their children dreaming of their future involving being paid for sex.

But so far, by way of social awareness, the company’s modifications of Barbie lie merely in her clothing: astronaut Barbie in the 60s, disco Barbie in the 80s. Never before have they dared such radical progression as to allow her to eat. Never before have they accepted that children of different races might like to play with a toy that lets them dream about their own personal future.

What Mattel has done is not revolutionary. Barbie isn’t the first in a line of brands, like Dove, to respond to growing resistance to society’s obsession with the visual utopia that is presented to women. Consumer demand has called for a reality check. Producers have been, albeit slowly, responding. It’s simple economics, not groundbreaking morality.

But the change is still significant. Even if it is the smallest of steps towards social equality. Even if it is to keep up with competitors. Even if people only buy the already existing, outdated Barbie. It’s important because toys are important cultural symbols: they reflect what we as a society deem appropriate for our children to identify with. Dolls help to shape our children’s – aka society’s future’s – view of beauty. For the individual, ‘realistic’ Barbie will hopefully go some way to show children that their own looks are iconic. Broadly speaking, children playing with dolls that are of a different colour, or body shape, or are ginger, instills acceptance, even a love of diversity.

Beauty ideals are not a fixed, but they are pretty entrenched in our culture. Dove may make already insecure adult women feel better about their ‘flaws’, but to really change our perception of what is beautiful, to really create a society which unanimously celebrates diversity, we must look to the impressionable souls of the future generation.

The designers of Barbie’s endeavours most probably boil down entirely to a need to respond to increasing competition. But so what? Their response to consumer demand is a mark of how our culture of prejudice is waning; so much that an item that has been an icon for 57 years requires dramatic revamping to avoid fading out of the market. For that reason I could not be happier with this new line of Barbies.

Britain has a fat problem; there is no denying that. Aptly nicknamed “The Fat Man of Europe” we are only getting larger; nearly a quarter of British adults are obese, and that is set to exceed 50% by 2050. Clearly we need to change our ways. However that far from condones the abusive actions of the crassly named “Overweight Haters Ltd.”

Since the now infamous “fat” cards were handed out, the mainstream media has treated those who received the cards as victims of a moral crime against our social code, rather than people full of “selfish greed”; and quite rightly so.

It was an ignorant act of bullying. To use a cliché, it was ‘fat shaming’. The only point worth discussing was their accusation of “wasting NHS money”. In response: while obesity may account for a significant chunk of unavoidable NHS expenditure, so do many other lifestyle factors. Oh boy I hope those who handed out the obscene cards were smokers. What a sweet sweet example of hypocrisy that would be.

The thing is, abusive messages and judgemental assumptions aside, our battle of the bulge does not end with a salad and a treadmill. This is because obesity is not simply about food meeting face, and rear meeting sofa. People do not reach a BMI of over 30 because they over indulge their “selfish greed”.

There are underlying personal reasons, like depression. Everyone who experiences times of hardship or grief seek comfort, and for many that comfort is food. Think of Pavlov’s Dog. Food acts as a reward, making us feel good, or at least better. We’ve all had stereotypical Bridget Jones’ style, meltdown provoked food comas, but generally these are one offs. For some with chronic mental-health problems these binges are more of a continual spiral of addiction.

As with anorexia or illegal drug addiction, abuse and discrimination are not going to ‘knock people out of it’. A study published by PLOS ONE Journal suggests the contrary. Apparently people with obesity are 3x as likely to remain obese; those who were just overweight are 2.5x more likely to become obese post weight discrimination. So if these “haters” are worried about our NHS or are serious about making people “slimmer [and] happy” their tactics will have utterly misfired.

Why are we getting bigger now? Obesity in the UK has trebled in the past 30 years. That correlates with huge social change and the rise of convenience. The Georgian ritual of tea may have had a detrimental affect on our waistlines, but it is since the revolution of ‘the main meal’ in the 70s that our cultural attitudes have really damaged our mental and physical health.

The rise of convenience meals waves goodbye to daily guaranteed interaction with loved ones. Now busy people can be relentlessly busy, and lazy people can be never-endingly lazy. No wonder we are sadder than ever before.

Big companies play key role here: once the incessant advertising and cheap prices draw customers in, the instant satisfaction brought by the sugar and salt content keeps us coming back for more. The government knows the dangers of processed food, as do the companies. But the power of the cereal industry is such that the government isn’t able to supress them.

And so we must tackle our chronic obsession with food, together. Create a social structure of support. Be bold and form a consensus to disregard the consumerism that the big companies, who have little regard for our well being promote. Tax sugar. Promote vegetables. Most importantly don’t attack individuals.

We are all snobs, in some way. We all have preferences, that is only nature. But living in a supposedly civilised society we should learn to draw the line between preferences and prejudices. Most notably in this country prejudices have been based on class (and gender). That however is a problem of old and as we moved into the 21st century we should have lowered our noses and removed any chips off our shoulders. So far I have seen that this has not happened and, typical Brits, we are stuck in a place where we can conveniently and effectively (falsely) blame others for any of our misfortune or dissatisfaction. It is a twisted way of making us feel better about ourselves. It is not constructive and restricts the social freedom we are so desperate to embrace.

Class has always been an issue for me. It has always confused me that people would wish to create a them and us separation and in doing so create conflict; a bit like the alliance system pre-WW1. In the past year, even though I am the only woman in the kitchen at work, I have found that any illusion of a class division has caused me more grief than the quite clear gender division.

I’ve been incredibly lucky to be born into a family that has acted a springboard for potential success in whatever field I chose. However my family has somewhat been stuck in a higher class that my ancestors belonged to, one which we do not. One which is associated with more affluence and therefore a greater capacity to do nothing (even an obligation to). Furthermore it has surrounded me with snobbery directed at others who follow different paths, considered to be of a lower class.

When I decided to leave university after one term my Mum’s face resembled a ghost and she began a mission to get me to stay. I had already disappointed her enough by not applying to Cambridge, but this – at first – was too much for her to swallow.

Eventually she gave in (I’m more stubborn than a mule) and I got a job as a chef. One thing remained the same – the “them and us” culture. However I was no longer considered part of the “us camp” and I would now become victim to inverse snobbery. I have been sarcastically named “Princess Sophie”, repeatedly asked whether I have horses and told to “ask Daddy” if I need something. One of the first things one of the chefs said to me was “at least you’ll be able to throw delicious dinners for friends when you’re a city lawyer”. A comment that didn’t exactly make me feel welcome on my first day. Moreover it turns out that that chef lives in Belgravia, which suggests he isn’t exactly struggling to get by. It is his East London accent and evident working class upbringing that saves him from abuse. Thus this prejudice is all a product of my colleagues’ assumptions that my “proper” accent and not having had a full time job by the age of 20 makes me a spoilt rich kid who deserves to take the brunt of any chip they have on their shoulders. The truth is I am neither rich nor a spoilt brat.

And don’t think my parents’ friends have been 100% supportive either. I have had looks at shock at the fact I’m not at university. I make sure I mention the fact I was at a top 4 university, which I chose to leave, to ensure they know I’m not stupid and that my original intention had been to follow the path they deem suitable. To both groups of people I say that I’m not sure working in a kitchen is what I want to do for the rest of my life as I know they all think it’s not the place for a woman like me to build their career.

To say the truth: no I’m not 100% I want to work in a kitchen all my life. But I do want to stick with the food industry. I love cooking; and the teamwork, adrenaline rush and active nature of chef life really appeals to me. Yes there is the well known problem of women struggling to make it in the kitchen environment. However it is also the snobbery from all angles of society that has made it at times a hostile place. I cannot pretend I have been mistreated at work, or constantly bullied for my accent or lifestyle. My employers and collegues have been very good to me and are training me well. I am even beginning to feel like one of them. However I do not feel wholly like one of the team due to their consistent insistence to remind me that (in their minds) I am in some way different to them.

It’s a modern problem, a child of the age old British class system, born through the age of class movement. Of course I advocate movement within society, but why is it only acceptable to celebrate people of the working class gaining success in an area associated with another class: from someone being the first in their family to go to university to Kate Middleton marrying royalty. In fact why is that celebrated at all? Celebration makes such events a big deal, which in turn deepens class distinction and segregated individuals.

As we saw with the Civil Rights Movement in America “separate but equal” does not break boundaries, but entrenches them. The same applies to class. I am not putting class issues in the UK and race issues in America on a par, but simply using this extreme example to show that the idea of crearing cultural isotopes does not make for a united or free society.

To add to this, class no longer correlates with affluence in this country and that needs to be recognised. It correlates with nothing of substance and has instead become a facade of the bitter and the proud; to falsely legitimise blaming others for any dissatisfactions they may have with their own life. Another example of such a defence mechanism would be when an atheist has an argument with a Christian about religion and the Christian were to defend themselves by saying they “have faith”. It is impossible for the atheist to dispute them. It is the ultimate conversation stopper and a builds a brick wall between the two sides. Yet the Christian has not acted rationally and has defended their position with only superficial legitimacy. In doing so they have also made the Atheist feel vulnerable and unequal. This is similar to the use of class in an argument; they are both blanket terms used by the ignorant to defend themselves.

If I was really a spoilt rich kid I wouldn’t have gone out and got myself a job. Yes I’ve had many an opportunity, a great education (both academic and culinary), and have met some great people who have given me advice for success. But that does not make me lazy or less worth my colleagues time. Moreover these opportunities are no replacement for real skill and experience. Money is not needed and indeed cannot buy: grit, determination, or natural talent.

We should stop dwelling on a problem two or three generations out of date. In the meantime we it should be recognised that we are all snobs – and inverse snobbery is just as destructive. I am proud of where I come from and will never disrespect my upbringing. That’s not where the problem lies (if it is not overdone). The problem lies with judging, disrespecting and excluding others because they grew up with different priorities, expectations and opportunities. And it should be stopped. Now.